Bloomington

Strange ‘Dream’ reflects coming reality

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By John Lyle Belden

I remember when The Year 2000 was used to reference the future. Now it’s history.

In movies and literature – ever since the play that gave us the word “robot” – we imagined living side by side with technology. Now it autonomously delivers our packages. We hold conversations with computers.

From this world of tomorrow swiftly becoming today comes “Your Name Means Dream,” by Josè Rivera, presented by Jewish Theatre Bloomington.

Aislin (Diane Kondrat) lives alone in New York’s East Village. Every conversation with her adult son results in an argument, so her grandkids no longer visit. Out of concern for her advancing age, declining health, and the fact she washes down her prescriptions with Jack Daniels, he has sent her a state-of-the-art assistant, Stacy (Valerie C. Kilmer), which looks like a young woman but is a synthetic robot body with an AI brain.

“I am beautiful and creepy.”

After a wild (for them) and funny (for us) start, Aislin gradually comes to accept the presence of this talking “toaster” that says it wants to help her live a fuller life, soon seeing “it” as “her.” Taking on those improvements, especially losing the bottle of Jack, is another matter.  

Under the careful direction of Martha Jacobs, both actors take characters that we would have issues with and make them strangely charming.

During a talkback afterward Kondrat said, smiling, that this may be the most F-bombs she’s ever had to utter in a single script. While consistently profane, Aislin is not always angry. She does express frustration at her life, her son, the loss of her husband years ago, and herself, as well as her faux-human companion. However, moments of introspection slip through, as well as compassion at the prospect of actual loss. Those who are familiar with the addicted can see the contradictions of personality here. While her internal circuitry is biological, she is also subject to “glitching” in her own way.

Kilmer delivers an outstanding performance, never breaking character though as Stacy “learns” her movement becomes more fluid and she even picks up some of Aislin’s colorful language. With her perfect memory, we get a lot of callback references that work with the story. To be purely robotic, though not a trained dancer, Kilmer credits an acting class in which she was encouraged to practice isolating individual parts of her body, creating the notion that under-skin servos rather than smooth muscles control her movement. In preparing, she said she paid close to herself and considered how to remove the human element from each action or expression. This precision also shows in full-body character work as she mimics both the movement and voice of Aislin’s son when they communicate through Stacy’s phone app.

While there are some hilarious interactions, there is the underlying stress natural to a situation in which an AI-controlled machine that can bench-press hundreds of pounds and has no soul (the AOS [“Approximation of Soul”] upgrade comes in her next model, she says) is alone with a person with fragile body and mind. Aside from malfunction, there is a risk of hacking by the Skinjobs anti-robot organization.

Post-show discussion brought out various reactions to this engaging and thought-provoking play. While they address serious aspects of technology providing personal assistance for the elderly and differently abled, a process well under way in the off-stage world, there was also genuine affection for the comic interaction between the curmudgeon and the android. Some comments declared this a sort of 21st-century “Odd Couple.”

I personally saw the deeper questions posed by films such as “Blade Runner,” questions of identity and self, both among humans and those programed to emulate them. This was reflected in Stacy’s relating a sort of muscle-memory of a previous, very different, “life.” The policy of her maker, the tech corporation Singularity, is to completely eliminate its imprinted identity after use so that the unit can be refitted for whatever service the next customer wants. “I will not outlive you.”

Though Aislin is Irish-Croation and Catholic, and Stacy allegedly soulless, the board of Jewish Theatre of Bloomington felt this is an important work to bring to the public due to its examination of identity and humanity. As the human character puts it, “I contain multitudes, bitch!”

We are grateful for the opportunity to experience this.

Remaining performances are Saturday and Sunday, May 16-17, at the Waldron Rose Firebay theater, 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington. They are technically sold out, but tickets might become available. Information at jewishtheatrebloomington.com.

No small parts, just big questions

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By John Lyle Belden

It’s only natural to wonder what roles we fill in the big story of our lives. You feel like the star of your own narrative, but imagine what an unseen audience might think – what if you’re someone else’s supporting character, or merely an “extra”?

Sir Tom Stoppard, who recently passed, considered the minor characters’ point of view in his early masterpiece, “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.” Existing in its own reality (with a vague resemblance to 16th-century Denmark), two characters from William Shakespeare’s “Hamlet” sense that they have a purpose, but they have difficulty remembering what, or why.

Eclipse Productions of Bloomington, which enjoys works that draw the audience in with an entertaining approach to thought-provoking theatre, present “R&GAD” in their quirky style. I find it interesting that three of the company’s founders have fully immersed themselves in the play – Konnor Graber as Rosencrantz, Jeremy J Weber as Guilenstern, and Kate Weber is the director. Their sense of introspection may not be all acting.

We meet them in a place where the coin comes up heads more than 90 times in a row. They were summoned from… somewhere… and are called on to do something. Of that much, they are certain. Assistance arrives in the form of the Player King (Chandler Deppert), leader of a group of Tragedians who appear like something from a Goth circus, or players in a Haunted House attraction. These thespians specialize in tales of bloody death and are thus on their way to perform for Prince Hamlet.

The Mechanicals are Sonia Velazquez, Jo Moran, Megan Canonica, Luna DeCastro, and Dan Heise as Alfred.

From here, our lead characters find themselves in and out of the bigger play, meeting crafty/crazy Hamlet (Sam Durnil), Polonius (Tom Trent), Ophelia (Savannah Sexton-Wisley), King Claudius (Rene Llewellyn), and Queen Gertrude (B. Stryker DeLong).

It helps to know the Shakespeare work, but not entirely necessary – understand at least that the acting troupe was also a part of that drama, performing a play-within-the-play at Hamlet’s instruction to prick the conscience of the King. Other clues to the plot of “Hamlet” are scattered throughout, observed or discussed by R&G.

Deppert is engaging and wily with a sense of glorious purpose as the Player King. Excusing his antics with “We’re actors; we’re the opposite of people!” he embodies both a part of this surreal environment and a critique of it.

Weber displays nervous energy as Guildenstern, adamant to gain some understanding of what is happening. Meanwhile Graber is easy-going and a bit fey as Rosencrantz, curious but reluctant. Their minds are sharp, though, honed with the games of Questions.

It is left to us to consider what exactly is happening with these gentlemen, and where they are. Are they souls in Purgatory? Two-dimensional figments of the Bard’s imagination given sentience? Mr. Stoppard’s fever dream? The play’s the thing, as someone once said.

Kudos to Sexton-Wisley and Vera Wagler for special FX and makeup. Yasheka Solara choreographed the dancing featured in a couple of scenes.

For a wonderful examination of one of the greatest stage tragedies through the eyes of a couple of bit players, discover “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead,” Friday through Sunday at The Constellation Playhouse, 107 W. 9th St., Bloomington. Get info and tickets at eclipseproductionscompany.com.

Reckoning ‘The Price’ in Bloomington

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By John Lyle Belden

Playwright Arthur Miller is having a moment in Indiana this year. We recently had a production of “The Crucible” in Indy, and the show about the “Salesman” is opening in Westfield (watch for our take on that next week).

Meanwhile, the Jewish Theatre of Bloomington presents one of Miller’s lesser-produced plays, “The Price,” an emotionally gripping drama inspired in part by his own family.

How do you catalog a life, or even one that might have been? In 1968, Victor Franz (Jonathan Golembiecki), an NYPD Sargeant turning 50 and considering retirement – which would thrill his wife, Esther (Abby Lee) – is faced with needing to move or sell his late father’s belongings. The man had died years earlier, but these things were kept in an attic of a building about to be condemned. The items mostly date back to when the family lost their fortune in the 1929 Wall Street crash, left there largely ignored while the Franzes struggled through the Great Depression.

Victor and Esther are meeting with an appraiser, Gregory Solomon (Ken Farrell), to discuss a price to take the entire lot. There is some concern that Victor’s estranged brother Walter (Stephen Hunt), a very successful doctor and researcher, will show up to demand his half of the estate, but calls to him have gone unanswered. Naturally, he will be making an appearance midway through the play.

It’s that simple, and that complex.

“It’s impossible to know what’s important,” Victor says. While Solomon insists they concentrate on actual value over sentiment, it is difficult to price these decades-old artifacts – a harp, a gramophone, a fencing foil, a shiny evening gown or even the hardwood dresser it hangs in. Still, that which most needs to be settled is not financial. Walter’s success has come at its own dear price, and Victor is calling the debt.

One critique when this premiered on Broadway was that there was too much talking, but this drama has a lot to say. In the skilled hands of this cast, directed by Dale McFadden, we are fully engaged in this conversation, sparking with sibling tension while leavened with a bit of dry Jewish humor.

Golembiecki delivers an excellent performance of a man nearly paralyzed by uncertainty. His own life is at a decision point while dealing with the consequences of past changes. Coupled with the reintroduction of his brother, he is reminded of what could have been a different and perhaps better life. Instead he chose a life of service to others, and especially his father – was he a fool to do so?

Lee presents a woman growing impatient with her husband’s reluctance, desiring that things will finally break their way. Still underneath her tension is a fierce devotion, and love.

Hunt’s Walter keeps us off balance regarding the expectations we are given of his character. He appears to struggle with a recently found need to develop a sense of empathy, to reconcile his great success with one who sacrificed. His assertive ego only lets him change so much, if it is genuine at all.

Farrell is solid, giving perspective and humorous relief while floating lightly above Jews-and-money stereotypes. He demands respect while seeking not to offend so that in the end, everyone gets a deal they can walk away from.

A vital part of this production is the attic set, neatly surrounded by put-away furnishings and reminders of the past, brilliantly arranged by set designer Bobby Ayala Perez with prop masters Danielle Bruce and Nicole Bruce. Through this, the spirits of the Franz parents seem to haunt the surroundings.

While the laughter is mostly on a nearly-forgotten novelty record, there is a kind of enjoyment from seeing such a notable drama so well performed. Remaining performances are Saturday and Sunday, Nov. 15-16, in Rose Firebay in The Waldron Arts Center, 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington.

Get info and tickets at jewishtheatrebloomington.com.

Enter the haunted trap of ‘Veronica’s Room’

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By John Lyle Belden

Eclipse Productions* of Bloomington adds to the October chill with its production of “Veronica’s Room.”

The 1973 play is by Ira Levin, author of “Rosemary’s Baby” and “The Stepford Wives,” which should alert you to the caliber of psychological thriller we are dealing with. To set that mood, the audience walks in through the stage area of the Rose Firebay Theater in the Waldron Arts Center and are seated in the titular room throughout the play. Try to ignore the phantoms.

Soon arriving are Susan (Mandy Scamacca) and Larry (Michael Allen), a young couple invited by John (Ronnie Johnstone) and Maureen (Becky Stapf), caretakers of this old house. The Girl is asked to help comfort the home’s aging resident by pretending to be her long-dead sister, Veronica. They note that Cissie, who is dying, has mentally slipped back to 1935 and needs reassurance that her sister has forgiven her for past events.

Reluctant at first, Susan agrees to take on the role, including changing into Veronica’s clothes. After The Woman briefs her on details including the younger brother Conrad and their physician, Dr. Simpson, she is left alone to prepare for the next scene.

She is not ready for what happens next.

I dare not spoil anything further, as the plot twists around shifting identities and altered reality – like a story by Phillip K. Dick in the style of Shirley Jackson. Director Kate Weber leans into this sense of fractured perspective with touches including the unspeaking hooded guides at the show’s beginning, wall cut-aways allowing us to see into the hall outside the room, and the spooky soundscape – designed by Joshua Lane – with constant low moans and creaks. Terrible past events haunt this space; as we come to understand them, note that this is for mature audiences (content includes various forms of abuse, as well as gaslighting and murder).

Performances explore the complexity of the characters’ identities while the flexible nature of stagecraft in presenting any time and place gives us little certainty. Is Susan pretending to be Veronica, or did Veronica dream up Susan? Scamacca effectively personifies the struggle. Our printed program is of no help – she is listed as “The Girl.”

Likewise, Allen is “The Young Man,” a little standoffish and hard to fathom from the start. Johnstone, “The Man,” masterfully drops clues that only add up in the end. Stapf, “The Woman,” gives a powerhouse performance that stuns with every disturbing twist.

For our Indianapolis readers, this play is well worth the drive down to Bloomington. Eclipse’s immersive approach to theatre really pays off. Remaining performances of “Veronica’s Room” are Oct. 24-26 at 122 S. Walnut St. Get info and tickets at eclipseproductionscompany.com.

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(*No relation to the “Eclipse” professional theatre program of Summer Stock Stage in Indianapolis.)  

‘Rabbit Hole’ a careful exploration of painful subject

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By John Lyle Belden

Eclipse Productions of Bloomington* presents the Pulitzer-winning drama, “Rabbit Hole,” by David Lindsay-Abare, which is a challenge to watch – not because it’s done badly, but because it is done so well.

Real-world married couple Kate Weber and Jeremy J. Weber play Becca and Howie Corbett, in whose suburban New York home the play is set. Months earlier, their four-year-old son Danny was struck and killed by a car when the boy chased his dog into the street. Becca is still dealing not only with the pain of grief but also with the constant presence of Danny’s clothes and possessions. Howie maintains a strong front, but privately watches VCR tapes from Danny’s last months before the accident, and sees even taking clothes to Goodwill as “erasing” their son. The couple had gone to a support group for parents who lost children, but Becca found their sentiments infuriating, so Howie goes alone.

We also meet Izzy (Trick Blanchfield), Becca’s sister whose irresponsible lifestyle is changing thanks to a surprise pregnancy by her musician boyfriend. Nat (Beth Fort), mother of the two women, is also present, cocktail in hand. Her attempts at comfort and relating to loss bring up her own unresolved pain over son Arthur, Becca and Izzy’s older brother, who died of suicide.

In addition, there is Jason Willett (Sam Durnil), the teenager who was at the wheel of the vehicle that hit Danny, dealing with his own feelings of responsibility.

The five visible characters are surrounded by an orbit of others whose presence are felt, including Arthur; Izzy’s boyfriend and his now-ex (an encounter with whom Izzy relates in the first scene); the ever-barking dog; and the long-time friends with children who haven’t called since the funeral.

The star at the center, of course, is Danny. Every conversation carries the weight of his absence. As Howie watches the tape, family moments are heard and seen in a projection that bathes the set with the happy boy’s presence.

Flashes of humor help make the moments of raw emotion bearable and relatable. Each person has their well-intentioned mis-steps on their way forward through the weeks that follow.

The Webers’ natural chemistry helps inform the longing between their characters struggling with potential estrangement. Each presents a soul nearing the breaking point; she as she cries out, he as he holds everything in. Blanchfield, ever reliable in a free-spirit role, transmutes smoothly as she becomes the voice of reason. Fort stirs our sympathies with her complex character, dealing with the loss of both son and grandson as best she can. Durnil handles well a teen given a burden way beyond his maturity to shoulder. Still, Jason’s brave naïve gesture becomes an unlikely turning point.

The play is directed by Konnor Graber, whose approach draws us in with compelling performances, the projected video, and the use of songs during low-light scene transitions that reflect the mood and plot. Lighting is by Allie Mattox, sound by Joshua Lane, set design by technical director Shayna Survil, with Alec Guerra as stage manager.

This drama is worth the effort to see as it eases us through this couple’s process, engaging us with a reminder that life can and must continue, even as those who departed linger in spirit.

Performances are Friday through Sunday, Aug. 8-10 at The Constellation Playhouse, 107 W. 9th St., Bloomington. For tickets and info, see eclipseproductionscompany.com.

*(No relation to the “Eclipse” Indy young artist program.)  

Jewish Theatre of Bloomington: Herzog play goes the distance

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By John Lyle Belden

How far would you go for a friend? For someone you love?

The Jewish Theatre of Bloomington presents “4000 Miles,” the 2013 Pulitzer finalist dramatic comedy by Amy Herzog.

Bill Simmons, who directed the Indiana premiere in 2012, is at the helm again. He said that the time that passed between these productions has given him better perspective on the main characters, 21-year-old Leo (Ryan Eller) and his 91-year-old grandmother Vera (Martha Jacobs, who was also in the 2012 Phoenix Theatre production).

Leo arrives unexpectedly around midnight at Vera’s New York apartment. He is excitable with hair-trigger moods, while she is patient and understanding, though a bit bewildered. He brings in his bicycle, having ridden not from his family’s home in St. Paul, Minn., but all the way from Seattle. He does not want his mother to know where he is.

Through 10 emotional scenes we learn what has brought Leo here, and the feelings and issues he must work through. This includes his relationship with Bec (Sofia Salgado), also in New York to attend college. One night, he brings home a young woman he just met, Amanda (Laura Rong), who resembles his adopted sister Lily (Rebecca Von Kirk). He has a lot to deal with, along with a sense that others believe he’s handling it all wrong. Meanwhile, Vera is dealing with her own feelings of things slipping away, including the passing of a dear friend in her “octogenarian club.”

The sharp script, excellent acting, and Simmons’ touch combine to make these strangers feel familiar, like people whose pain we don’t mind sharing. The generation gap and Vera’s feisty attitude generate a good amount of welcome laughs as a little absurdity finds its way into even the most serious situations. Beneath the problems is a genuine sense of feeling and connection, which leads to a hopeful outcome we can all feel as the play concludes.

Travel the much-shorter distance (from Indy) to experience “4000 Miles,” Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday, May 15-17-18, at the Waldron Art Center Rose Firebay, 122 S. Walnut St. (ground floor off 4th Street), Bloomington. Get tickets and info at jewishtheatrebloomington.com.

Getting in our ‘Steps’

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By John Lyle Belden

In a bizarre coincidence that Alfred Hitchcock would find delightful, this last weekend saw two openings of the British thriller-turned-farce, “The 39 Steps,” adapted by Patrick Barlow from a four-hand comedy by Simon Corble and Nobby Dimon, heavily based on Hitchcock’s 1935 film of the same name, based somewhat on the 1915 novel by John Buchan.

The movie is notable for helping establish the drama film tropes of man-on-the-run and the potential comedy goldmine of two people who don’t get along being chained to each other. The more interesting scenes and twists? Hitch’s idea.

As noted, there are two productions spaced about three counties apart. Hyperion Players presents its “39 Steps” at the Switch Theatre in Fishers. Meanwhile, Eclipse Productions plays its version in Waldron Auditorium in downtown Bloomington.

The plot (for both): In the 1930s, Richard Hannay, a Canadian living in London, seeks diversion in a music hall featuring a performance by Mister Memory, during which he encounters a woman who ends up back at his flat (oh!), then mysteriously stabbed in the back (ugh!). She had warned Hannay of some international spy intrigue, and her death convinces him to go to Scotland – while London police seek him for the woman’s murder – to figure out what’s happening, including the identity of The Thirty-Nine Steps. On the way, he dodges a police patrol by kissing a woman on the train, who responds by turning him in to his pursuers. As luck will have it, she will later encounter him again, and again betray him. Mayhem follows Hannay up to the Highland moors and eventually back down to London for the climactic showdown that could clear his name and save England (at least for a few years).   

The Barlow script amps up the inherent humor of its Hitchcockian quirks and is staged with improvised props and four actors: one to play Hannay, one to be the women he encounters, and a couple of “Clowns” who play all the other roles.

The Hyperion production does this play silly; the Eclipse production does it weird. Both do it excellently.

In Fishers, Hyperion Players emphasizes the master of suspense. The script does have nods to other Hitchcock films, but here we also get a “Frenzy” of references in the curtain speech. Also, there are a few birds around the stage (crows, I believe, which counts as attempted “murder”).

Josh Elicker plays Hannay appropriately amused and bewildered by all the bizarre goings-on. Sarah Eberhardt is the leading lady, employing comically outrageous accents as German Annabel Schmidt and Scottish Margaret, contrasted with the more natural manner of Pamela (the woman on the train).  The Clowns are frenetically and effectively played by Becca Bartley and Ryan Moskalick, who makes a brilliant Mister Memory. Evangeline Bouw directs.

The set, designed by Beth Fike, looks like a stage with random pieces upon it like it’s between shows. The players make good use of items including a door frame, a piece of wall with a window, and a single comfy armchair. The plot moves along earnestly following the beats of the film, but in a manner showing they don’t take themselves too seriously. The result is like a spy-thriller sitcom.

Down in Bloomington, Eclipse (no relation to the summer student company in Indy) emphasizes the Clown aspect of the production. In fact, in a nod to theatre traditions including commedia dell’arte, we have one regular actor, Konnor Graber as our dashing Hannay, dealing with a small troupe of traditional costume-and-makeup clowns: Shayna Survil (the leading ladies), Steve Scott, Vera Wagler, and Jada Buehler. Having three rather than two “Clown” players makes for creative division of roles, including Mister Memory simultaneously presented by Wagler and Buehler, working almost like conjoined twins adorned in classic Tragedy and Comedy masks.

Speaking of which, assistant director Jeremy J. Weber invites all in attendance to put on one of the provided masks (yours to keep) to help immerse yourself in the goings-on. Director Kate Weber and the company arranged the seating surrounding a central area (suggesting a circus) where most of the action takes place. Gags and props are exaggerated, and a fight scene becomes like a professional bout with Survil walking the perimeter with a Ring Girl’s sign. The wild goings-on and sharply executed physical comedy almost overshadow the story’s plot. Still, this unique experience is worth the drive down to B-town.

So try one – or both! – of “The 39 Steps.”

Hyperion’s plays Thursday through Saturday at The Switch Theatre (Ji-Eun Lee Music Academy) 10029 126th St., Fishers. Tickets at hyperionplayers.com.

Eclipse’s plays Thursday through Sunday at Waldron Auditorium, 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington. Tickets at eclipseproductionscompany.com.

A strong look at fragile relationships

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By John Lyle Belden

Eclipse Productions of Bloomington (no relation to the summer program in Indy) is filling the theatre niche of bold, provocative productions that Indianapolis has with companies such as Theatre Unchained or American Lives Theatre. This approach comes into sharp focus with their present staging of “Closer,” by Patrick Marber.

The drama premiered in London in 1997, the U.S. in 1999, and adapted into a film in 2004, and all versions are notable for their frank, unflinching look at intimate relationships – psychological and physical – among two men and two women who find one another in an unusual tangle of coincidence and dark serendipity. “Everyone loves a big lie,” one of them says, alluding to a major theme of the play.

Though it has nothing to do with this story (and isn’t played), if you couldn’t sit through the Nine Inch Nails hit of the same name (the “I wanna f**k you like an animal” song), don’t bother seeing this. But if you’re open to it, director Kate Weber has created what she calls “a piece of elevated theater masked in a raw and bold human emotion.”

“I never look where I’m going,” says Alice (Shayna Survil), her only excuse for stepping into traffic in front of Dan (Konnor Graber) where she is struck by a vehicle. In the emergency room, their relationship begins. A doctor (Jeremy J. Weber) notices the question-mark shaped scar on Alice’s leg – an injury she refuses to elaborate on, except to say it was from the wreck that killed her parents.

Dan, an obituary writer for a local newspaper, then writes a novel using Alice as inspiration. But upon meeting Anna (Patricia Maureen Francis), the professional photographer taking his book’s headshot, he becomes smitten with her. The pieces of our romantic quadrilateral fall into place in bizarre fashion when Dan draws the doctor, Larry, into his own twisted meet-cute with Anna.

Thus goes a sort of dramatic dance among the foursome, involving manipulation and betrayal as well as striving for authentic relationships and, perhaps, love. While we get very mature content and language, there is stunningly no nudity – even in a cleverly-executed yet erotic strip-club dance – as the focus is on the ravaging of feelings and souls more than their bodies. It all builds to final moments of reckoning, in which the devastating truth of the “crying girl” is revealed at last.

We don’t get a hero or villain here, just people drawn by very human impulses to do well-meaning or hurtful things. This is especially so with Graber’s Dan, a man in his mid-thirties who reveals an immature, needy personality. At times we want to like him, others to hate him. Survil maintains Alice as a sexy cypher, a hothouse flower in her late teens (at the beginning) just wanting to be kept, an American of unknown origin making her own way in London – as inscrutable as the question of her scar. Weber maintains Larry as close to “normal” as we get in this setting, with his own quirks and while fairly dignified, wouldn’t turn down a good shag if it comes his way. Francis (a/k/a Trick Blanchfield to Indy audiences) cultivates Anna’s own complexity, complete with a fortress of feeling at which both men tear at the walls. Her darkest moment is one of the most raw we have seen on stage this year.

Get “Closer” with performances Thursday through Sunday, Nov. 21-24, at Waldron Firebay Theatre (first floor of the Waldron Arts Center), 122 S. Walnut, Bloomington. Get tickets at eclipseproductioncompany.com.

Witness a special day for ‘Five Women’

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By John Lyle Belden

Eclipse Productions of Bloomington (no relation to the student program in Indianapolis) is establishing itself by immersive productions with mature themes. This time, despite the trigger warnings, we have a comedy.

“Five Women Wearing the Same Dress” reveals the quirky genius of Alan Ball, predating his award-winning screenwriting in “American Beauty” and television’s “Six Feet Under” and “True Blood.” Directed by Jeremy J. Weber and Konnor Graber – who show solidarity by attending in matching floor-length gowns – they have us enter through a “closet” to witness the goings-on in the bedroom of Meredith Marlowe (Jen Wells), whose oh-so-perfect sister just got married.

The title refers to the fact that Meredith is one of five bridesmaids in the lavish ceremony at the Marlowes’ Knoxville, Tenn., home in the early 1990s, wearing identical lavender dresses (complete with matching hats and torturous high heels) that they despise. The quintet all find refuge in this room: Cousin Frances (Jada Buehler) is uncomfortably open about being “a Christian” though at her first appearance she quickly breaks the Commandment on coveting, as well as nearly the one about stealing. Trisha (Shayna Survil) had formerly been the bride’s “bad influence” friend, and now that her obligation is done, hopes to find someone for mindless sex. Georgeanne (Kate Weber) is a full bottle of champaign into a respite from her own lousy marriage, wishing a past lover would notice her instead of some other woman in a backless dress. Finally, Mindy (Vera Wagler), the good-natured lesbian sister of the groom, just wants to be away from all the judgmental looks from family and wedding guests.

A clever aspect of this play is that at least three characters become well known to us despite never appearing on stage – the bride Tracy (who all agree is beautiful and successful), groom Scott McClure (whom all the women pity), and the eternal bad-boy Tommy Valentine (former fiancé of Tracy who has hit on or slept with all five other women). As we learn more about past relationships, we see the lasting effects of past trauma that draw shadows over the expected joys of this day.

The performances reveal the unexpected chemistry among these very different individuals brought together by a rather unfortunate uniform. Buehler’s sanctimonious Frances can be a bit much, but her naïve charm keeps her likable. Survil has Trisha wear “jaded” like a badge of honor, or as armor over sensitive scars. Weber plays Georgeanne as someone who has lived a lot in her three decades, mostly for others, but hasn’t given up on youthful exploits just yet. Wagler’s Mindy is the most optimistic and (the irony is noted) girly of the group, though she has her own resentment to work through. Wells’ Meredith embodies her dichotomy as the host (it’s her room, and her joint they pass around) while still feeling stuck as a little sister – being younger than Tracy, Trisha, and Georgeanne, and held back by a traumatic adolescent event. Their interactions build naturally with their shared experience in a pre-smartphone world where all that matters is the sisterhood in the room, contrasted with the formal chaos downstairs and outside the window.

We also get a visit from Mindy’s handsome cousin, Tripp Davenport, played by Jo Moran with the same exuberant charisma they put into the Constellation production of “Alex Gold” earlier this year. Tripp does present a noble challenge for one of our ladies, but we suspect Ball wrote him in for his rather mundane usefulness in the final scene.

Performances run through Sunday, Sept. 8, at the Waldron Firebay Theatre (an intimate black-box stage on the first floor of Waldron Arts Center) 122 S. Walnut St., Bloomington. Get tickets at EclipseProductionsCompany.com.

Constellation musical tests couple’s commitment

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By John Lyle Belden

The opening song for “The Break,” a new rock musical presented by Constellation Stage and Screen of Bloomington, declares “this is not a love story.” But while it’s not a typical rom-com plot, this is a humorous story about love, tested in rather extreme fashion.

Samantha (Alex Keiper) and Charlie (Louis Pardo) have known each other since they started college. They have only dated – and had sex with – each other, and for years have lived together. They were perfectly fine with this.

One day, they realize that perhaps they should take the natural next step: marriage. It also dawns on them that neither has personal experience to truly know that each is the best partner for the other – no basis of comparison. They decide to take a “break” of 30 days for a “sexual walkabout,” separately sampling one-night stands with strangers to get the lay of the land (so to speak) before reuniting to finally commit to each other. There are a few ground rules, including shared custody of Rodrigo the iguana, but otherwise they are free to explore.

This musical, by Michael Kooman and Christopher Dimond, indulges in mature topics and language, but keeps things light with no graphic simulated intercourse. The scenes more reflect their experiences and feelings before and after the sex. There are plenty of questionable potential hookups, but some go quite well – one song declares “That felt f***ing good!”

Under the direction of Scott Weinstein, Keiper and Pardo turn in excellent performances. As Sam and Charlie, they convincingly show ease with each other, a depth of feeling that includes mutual empathy and genuine hurt when the rules are bent. Being the only actors on stage, each smoothly morphs into the various men and women our explorers encounter. Keiper is even the voice of Rodrigo, who also gets a song.

Overall, the show is a funny, entertaining reflection of our swipe-right/left dating landscape and the apprehension we all experience when the ring and ceremony make “til death do us part” feel too real.

Speaking of which, the last scene does involve a wedding (which is even hinted at in the beginning). How these two come to know that next step is the right one, though, is a heartfelt journey worth joining them on. Performances run through June 23 at Waldron Auditorium, 122 S. Walnut St. in downtown Bloomington. Get info and tickets at seeconstellation.org.